


Anodized

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/F, Groping, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Trapped In A Closet, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Yaz and the Doctor are stuck in a closet together. The Doctor asks a question while they wait to be rescued.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 129
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	Anodized

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> Thank you for this wonderful prompt - I had an absolute blast writing this fic!

“Doctor?” Yaz tried to keep her voice calm. Calm was good. The Doctor always got cranky when they were in some kind of peril, and it always put Yaz on edge when the Doctor snapped at her. 

But.

Well.

“Sh,” the Doctor whispered, right in Yaz’s ear. Very much in Yaz’s ear: her breath was ticklish, ruffling the hair at Yaz’s temple. “The good news is that you ‘n me are safe as houses in here.” Her voice was vibrating through her chest, against Yaz’s back. Her breasts were very soft, even through the double layers of t-shirt and (presumably) a bra. 

“I feel like there's bad news coming up next,” Yaz murmured, and she kept her voice low enough that she almost couldn’t hear it herself. 

“Very patient, the Franghlot,” the Doctor murmured. “They can just… sit there. For hours. And I know that the boys are on their way to deal with it, but it may… take a while. Since they’re getting the Gatrano to deal with them, it may be a bit.”

“How long is a while?” Yaz squirmed, shifting from foot to foot. The… closet they were squeezed into barely had room for the two of them. It would have been cramped at the best of times. 

“It varies,” the Doctor said. “Might be a bit of a wait. Possibly.” 

“You said that already,” Yaz said, and she had a feeling she sounded peevish. She had to hold off on peevish. Nobody ever got anything done being peevish. 

“Sorry,” the Doctor said. She sighed, and that was another puff of warm air across Yaz’s neck. She was already breaking out in goosebumps, her shoulders going up. “It shouldn't be too bad. I can hear it outside, so we need to just… wait.”

“Wait,” Yaz echoed. The Doctor’s hands were coming around her, and fumbling… at chest height, oh no. 

“I think I remember there being a deadbolt on here,” the Doctor murmured, as her hands fumbled at the door in front of them. They were so close together that the backs of her hands kept rubbing against the font of Yaz’s nipples, and it was _distracting_. 

“Why would there be a deadbolt in a closet?” Yaz hissed, and then there was a quiet click, presumably as the deadbolt slid into place.

“Very paranoid people,” the Doctor said. Her hands were resting on Yaz’s belly now, and her chin was on Yaz’s shoulder. “They had a bit of a political upheaval a generation ago. This might be a hidey-hole that was used to smuggle out people the tyrant was currently cross with.” The Doctor felt along the door, the tops of her arms in Yaz’s armpits. “Presumably they then converted it into a storage closet.”

“So can the thing outside get us?” Yaz squirmed. Her nipples were getting hard, and the Doctor would be able to _feel_ it, even through her bra and her t-shirt. 

“Not through this door, no,” the Doctor whispered. “I’m pretty sure we’re undetectable. It just isn’t gonna move for a while.” 

Yaz sighed - or at least, she started to. Then there was a hand on her mouth, pressing into her lips. 

“While it can’t get to us here,” the Doctor whispered in her ear, “it’s probably a bad idea to make too much noise. Don’t want it to get any ideas.”

Yaz nodded. Her heart was beating very fast in her ears, and her mouth was very dry. The Doctor’s hand was surprisingly cool - was it because she was an alien? The tight space seemed to heighten every sensation. The hand over her mouth was more intimate than a kiss, and the Doctor’s soft breathing in her ear was making her whole body prickle.

“I’m sure the boys’ll be ‘round to rescue us soon,” the Doctor added. Her other hand was still on Yaz’s belly, but it was creeping up, slowly. The very tips of her fingers were pressed against the band of Yaz’s bra, through Yaz’s t-shirt. 

Yaz nodded. She wanted to lick her lips. She wanted to masturbate. She wanted to grab the Doctor’s hands and move them to her breasts. She wanted to turn around and kiss the Doctor, although there was barely any space in the closet for her to move her arms, let alone turn around. 

“So we’ve got some time on our hands,” the Doctor said, and she gave Yaz’s belly a little squeeze. 

Yaz shivered, and she bit her lip, then gave another nod. “I can be quiet,” she said, and she said it softly enough that she wasn’t sure the Doctor heard her, until the hand covering her mouth was removed.

“Sorry ‘bout this, Yaz,” the Doctor said, and her voice did sound genuinely regretful. She rested her other hand beneath her first one, lower on Yaz’s belly, and she gave another absent squeeze. “I know we’ve had a string of less than stellar luck lately.”

“That last trip wasn’t so bad,” Yaz protested, still keeping her voice low. “I had loads of fun!”

“Yeah, but you ended up getting drenched when that Terraphage exploded on you,” the Doctor said, “and then all the acidic mud started to eat at your clothes and you had to take everything off…” 

“Yeah, well,” Yaz said, “that kinda thing happens. And you _did_ lend me your coat.” 

“Couldn’t have you wandering around starkers,” the Doctor said absently. Then she cleared her throat, just loud enough that Yaz could hear it. “Can I ask a question?” 

“‘Course,” Yaz said. “You always can.”

“When you had to get all your clothes off,” the Doctor said, “I, uh… I noticed that you took off all your underwear too. Your bra and whatnot.”

“Yeah,” Yaz said. “The mud was really starting to burn, and I was worried about it getting through.” Her face was getting so hot that she was faintly worried the Doctor might feel it. “And you did tell me to get everything off.”

“I did, didn’t I?” The Doctor’s hands were moving up again, until both of them were right under Yaz’s breasts. 

“Was that your question?” The Doctor’s hands may have been cooler than Yaz’s own skin, but they felt like brands through the thin cotton of Yaz’s shirt. _If she moves up a little bit she’d be able to feel how hard my nipple is_ , Yaz thought, _and how fast my heart is beating_. Although with the Doctor’s alien senses, maybe she could tell that already. Maybe the Doctor could smell her arousal and knew about the crush and was just humoring her, maybe the -

“No,” the Doctor said, cutting through the frantic chatter that was rocketing around Yaz’s head. “No, that wasn’t the question.” 

There was almost a full minute of silence. Yaz fancied that she could hear the animal on the other side of the door breathing. She was tempted to say something, but the awkwardness seemed to be growing with every passing second, and Yaz didn’t want to be the one who broke the spell, or… whatever it was.

“Did it hurt, when you got your nipples pierced?” The Doctor said, and Yaz almost made a surprised noise, then caught it just in time. It came out as a choked little squeak, and she felt the Doctor shake a little. The Doctor’s face was buried in her neck now, and her voice was vibrating along Yaz’s skin as she giggled. It was _ticklish_.

“Um,” Yaz said, and she cleared her throat. The Doctor had _noticed_ that? Yaz always made sure that the cups of her bra were thick enough to hide her piercings, and usually wore multiple layers as well. She hadn’t thought that the Doctor had been able to see anything, since she’d covered up with her hands as fast as possible, and she’d ended up wrapped up in the Doctor’s coat pretty quickly. 

“Was that a rude question to ask?” The Doctor shifted against Yaz, pressed Yaz a little closer to her. She still had her chin on Yaz’s shoulder, and Yaz could feel the rise and fall of the Doctor’s chest against her back. 

“A little,” Yaz said, “but not too bad.” She shifted, trying to get a bit more comfortable. The space was cramped enough that it was starting to get to her. At least talking was distracting. 

“So it hurt a little but not too bad, or it was a little awkward, but not too bad?” The Doctor asked. The tops of her knuckles were brushing against the undersides of Yaz’s breasts, and Yaz lifted her own hands up, although she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with them. Push the Doctor’s hands away? Pull them up? 

She settled on clutching at the Doctor’s coat, and the Doctor seemed to like that - she made an approving little noise, and squeezed Yaz a little tighter. 

“It hurt,” Yaz said, “but I had a mate with me, and I held her hand and the guy who was doing it was telling jokes the whole time, which also helped.” Yaz shivered. It had been more than a year since she’d gotten them, but the memory still made her shiver. The piercing itself had been a weird combination of arousing and clinical. She’d masturbated to the memory a few times, although her imagination tended to make it much more… lurid. 

“How did it impact police training? I can’t imagine it’s easy to do various… police-y things, with those.” The Doctor had rotated her wrist, and the tips of her fingers were brushing across the undersides of Yaz’s breasts. 

“I wore sports bras, mostly,” Yaz said. “Sports bras with thick cups, and the rest of the time I’m in a stab vest, so it keeps ‘em from getting too mauled.” She was shaking, and she was so wet she could feel it smearing against her inner thighs, soaking through her knickers into her jeans. She was standing in a dark closet with the Doctor, discussing her breasts. Her breasts, which the Doctor’s fingers were inches away from. “D’you wanna feel?” 

_Why_ had she said that?!

“Oo, yes please,” the Doctor said, and she stood up a little straighter, taking Yaz’s breasts in her hands. Yaz was reminded, inexplicably, of inviting the Doctor over for tea. _At least there aren’t any giant spiders this time_ , Yaz thought, and she shivered, from the memory and from the sensation of the Doctors thumbs pressing down on her nipples through her shirt and her bra. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this since I saw it,” the Doctor confessed, as she kept pressing down. “Didja get the titanium anodized? It looked rainbow.” Her index finger was coming into play as well, gently feeling along the barbell.

“Yeah,” Yaz murmured. “I, uh… I was worried about havin’ to get an MRI and take ‘em out, so I got titanium. And the guy at the piercing shop said that they’d do it for free, since… since it was my birthday.” She shuddered, as the Doctor gave another pinch. She couldn’t feel much of it, but it was more stimulation than she’d had in a long time. 

“That was awfully nice of him,” the Doctor agreed. Her hands went to the hem of Yaz’s shirt, the tips of her fingers ticklish as they slid under. “Can’t get much of a feel through all that fabric,” she said, her tone earnest. “D’you mind?”

“Nah,” said Yaz. “No. I… I most definitely don’t mind.” She shivered as the Doctor’s palms skimmed across her belly, up to the band of her bra. She moved her own hands, to hold on to the Doctor’s braces. She was leaning heavily against the Doctor now, and the Doctor seemed to be leaning against a shelf, or maybe the wall. The space was so _tight_ , so warm, steamy breath on her neck was, stirring up all the hairs. The Doctor’s hands were moving further up, pushing up the cups of Yaz’s bra, and when Yaz looked down, she could just make out the shape of the lumps of the Doctor’s hands, groping her breasts under her shirt.

“I always forget how _warm_ you humans are,” the Doctor said, and her tone was breathy. “You’ve only got one heart, but you use it so _hard_.” She pressed her thumbs against Yaz’s nipples, and she rotated them, as if she was using a game pad.

Yaz bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud, pressing her thighs together. The Doctor’s fingers were a little bit cooler than a human’s, it was true, but it wasn’t like being felt up by someone made of ice. She gave an yank at the Doctor’s braces, as the Doctor began to pluck at her nipples. There was only so much pulling she could do with her wrists at this angle, but she had to do _something_ , or she might just die. 

“You don’t really strike me as the nipple ring type,” the Doctor said. She was speaking directly into Yaz’s ear now, her lips moving against the shell. It was ticklish and arousing, and it was making Yaz wriggle, as the heat between her legs built and built. “Let alone rainbow ones.”

“‘S’why I got ‘em,” Yaz said. She was being so quiet - how was she being so quiet? How was the Doctor able to just feel her up like this when something that would happily eat them was on the other side of the door? “Sonya called me boring, said I never did anythin’ interesting or daring, and I was so tired of being viewed as…” She trailed off, as the Doctor twisted her nipples like they were dials on the TARDIS console. Her head dropped back, to rest on the Doctor’s shoulder. She was panting, and if the Doctor hadn’t been holding her up, she might have been falling to her knees.

Inasmuch as she would have been able to, in such a tight space. 

“As?” The Doctor twisted Yaz’s nipples in the other direction, and then she took Yaz’s earlobe into her mouth and sucked on it, her tongue flickering along the edge.

Yaz had to cover her own mouth to keep from making any embarrassing noises, and a few strangled whimpers still escaped. She was full on rocking her hips forward now, as if she could get any kind of stimulation. She had to be _careful_ \- the door was pressed against her knees, and if she wriggled too much she might end up thumping against the door, and they didn’t need to alert the thing on the other end. 

“Didn’t answer my question,” the Doctor said, her tone nonchalant. “What d’you not wanna be seen as?” She was pressing down on Yaz’s piercings now, gently shifting them, and it was an odd, almost uncomfortable feeling. It was making Yaz’s toes curl, and she turned her face to the side, her nose against the side of the Doctor’s neck. 

The Doctor smelled like skin, like engine oil and beeswax, like whatever it was she’d been eating. She was warm, and her double pulse was racing against Yaz’s lips. The Doctor’s head was tilted to the side now, and she sighed as Yaz took a deep breath, and squeezed Yaz’s breasts again, hard enough that it almost hurt. 

“Boring,” Yaz said, and she whispered it into the Doctor’s neck, her jaw. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to be embarrassed about, and yet. It was easier to talk about it in the warm darkness, at least, when it was just the two of them. “Everyone was always callin’ me boring, saying I’m not adventurous enough, that I’ve got my head down, that all I do is work.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re boring,” the Doctor said, and she flicked one of Yaz’s nipples with her fingernail, twisting the other one.

Yaz curled forward, her forehead resting on the door. She pressed her fist against her mouth to keep from making any more noises, and she shuddered, her eyes squeezed shut. When she opened them, she could see the shadow of the thing in front of the door, and that just added to the strangeness of the moment. The two of them, trapped in a closet while they waited to be rescued from some strange outer space… something or other. 

“I don’t think you’re boring at all,” the Doctor said in Yaz’s ear, and she was grinding her hips forward, rutting against Yaz’s backside. Yaz’s backside, which was sticking out, and the Doctor was draped across her back, pressing her further into the door. 

“I’m glad you don’t think I’m boring,” Yaz said weakly. “I wouldn’t… definitely wouldn't wanna bore you.”

The Doctor pulled herself upright, and took Yaz with her, so that they were both standing straight again. She let go of Yaz’s breasts long enough to shove Yaz’s shirt up, so that it was bunched up around her chin. 

Yaz shivered, as the cooler air hit her overheated skin. _If someone opens that door, they’ll see me getting felt up like a teenager sneaking around at a school disco._ She pressed her thighs tighter together, bit her lip as the Doctor began to pull and twist her nipples, a little harder this time. 

“We’re gonna be here a while yet, I think,” the Doctor said, right in Yaz’s ear. One hand was moving lower, down her belly. “I can tell. It settled down.” 

“It wasn’t… already settled?” Yaz tried to keep her tone level, as the Doctor’s fingertips slid into the front of her jeans. 

The Doctor paused, and Yaz felt her head tilt, as if she was listening. “I think it’s napping,” she said. “I can hear it snoring.”

“ _Snoring_?!” Yaz wasn’t sure why she was so shocked. 

“These are a bit tight,” the Doctor said, nudging at the waistband of Yaz’s trousers. “Could you do us a favor and unbutton ‘em?”

“Um,” said Yaz, and she licked her lips. This was going fast, and her head was spinning.

“Unless…,” the Doctor said, and she was drawing her hand back.

Yaz grabbed the Doctor’s wrist. “No,” said Yaz, “No, I mean… yes. Gimme a sec.” She unbuttoned her trousers with shaking hands, and she shoved them down around her thighs. She took her knickers with it, because in for a penny, in for a pound.

“Oh,” the Doctor said, her voice thick. “Oh, _Yaz_...” Her fingers dragged across Yaz’s vulva, collecting wetness. The tip of her index finger circled over Yaz’s clit, and Yaz had to cover her mouth again, to keep from making any more noises. “I could smell how badly you wanted it,” the Doctor said, as she rolled Yaz’s nipple in between two fingers on one hand and rubbed Yaz’s clit with the finger of her other hand. “You’re so responsive.”

“S-s-sorry,” Yaz mumbled. Her cunt was clenching around nothing, and her nipples were tender. She wanted the Doctor to kiss along her neck, wanted to beg to be fucked to be used. She wanted to turn around and kiss the Doctor’s sweet, hot mouth, wanted to get on her knees and bury her face in the Doctor’s wet cunt, wanted to whisper embarrassingly sincere things to the other woman until they both came or died from embarrassment, whichever came first. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” the Doctor assured her. “I love it.” Her finger was moving lower now, to probe gently at Yaz’s entrance. “God, I can feel you trying to pull me in. How badly d’you want it, Yaz?”

“I want it so badly,” Yaz said, and that seemed to let loose a stream of more obscenity. “I want you to fuck me so badly, Doctor, please, you can do it whenever you want, however you want, just please, I want it - I _need_ \- oh _fuck_ , Doctor!” 

The Doctor’s finger slid into her as easily as a knife between the ribs, and the Doctor’s thumb was rotating over her clit, circling over it carefully. “I was wondering if you had this pierced, too,” the Doctor said, as she began to thrust. “I didn’t get much of a look, since I can’t exactly subtly be ogling your crotch.”

“If it… if it helps, I d-didn’t notice you staring at my tits, either,” Yaz mumbled. She was humping into the Doctor’s hand now, and the Doctor was kissing along her neck. _It’s handy that I braided my hair today_ , thought some analytical part of her mind. _This would be much more of a pain if it was loose._

“I figure you were a bit distracted,” the Doctor said, and then she was sucking over Yaz’s pulse point and adding a second finger, her thumb applying more pressure. She switched breasts, and she held the whole thing in her hand, kneading it and pressing the palm of her hand against the pierced nipple. Her teeth were coming into play, as her fingers twisted Yaz’s nipple, and Yaz was sinking into it, Yaz was _dying_ \- the pain was combining with the pleasure, and she’d been building up towards this for who even knew how long. She reached behind her to clutch at the back of the Doctor’s head, keeping the Doctor’s mouth on her, tangling her fingers in the Doctor’s hair. Her other hand was covering her own mouth, and she whimpered and gasped as the Doctor’s fingers sped up. 

_I’m going to have an orgasm with some monster outside that wants to eat me_ , Yaz thought dazedly, and then she didn’t think anything, because the Doctor was crooking the fingers inside of Yaz and pressing down on her clit, and her mouth was on Yaz’s earlobe now, and Yaz’s orgasm seemed to hit her in the back of the head, unexpected and enough to make her knees weak.

Yaz tugged on the Doctor’s hair as the last of the trembling subsided, and the Doctor moaned against her, and began to thrust her fingers in earnest, moving her thumb faster now. “The next time we do this,” the Doctor whispered, as she dragged her nails across the space between Yaz’s breasts, “I’m gonna have all the lights on. I want to see myself fucking you.” She gave a little twist of her wrist, and Yaz squeaked arounder her own palm. 

_Next time. She wants a next time._ The Doctor was pushing another finger inside of her, and the heavy stretch of it was enough to send Yaz teetering towards another orgasm. She shuddered, and she squeezed her eyes shut, imagining the Doctor between her legs, looking up with those lovely hazel eyes. The Doctor watching her own fingers sinking into Yaz’s cunt, maybe watching Yaz’s own face, watching the way Yaz’s breasts heaved and the barbells caught the light. 

The Doctor’s fingers pressed into Yaz’s g-spot, and the Doctor shuddered, her whole body going rigid. “Yaz,” she said, her tone reverential, “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you at the top of that crane. You’re so beautiful, Yaz; I can’t believe how lucky I am, that I get to do this with you. I want to do it again, once we’re in the TARDIS; I want to make you come until you forget your own name; I want to feel you fuck me, Yaz, c’mon, I can feel how close you are; you’re getting tighter and your heart is going faster…” 

_Of course she’s chatty during sex_ , Yaz thought, and she was smiling against her own hand. Then she was shuddering through another orgasm, riding the Doctor’s hand and words, which were still streaming over her like a hose. There was another orgasm on the heels of the last one, and the Doctor was just as brutally efficient at wringing that one out of her, and the one after it. 

Yaz hadn’t known she could come that many times. Didn’t know how the Doctor did it, except by the time the Doctor’s fingers were being pulled out of her, she was sweaty and limp, and she couldn’t feel her own knees. She stood up clumsily, and was just able to turn around. She leaned drunkenly against the Doctor, and her forehead against the Doctor’s own, and she panted like she’d been running.

“Next time,” Yaz whispered, “I’m going to return the favor.” She pressed a nervous, tentative kiss to what she hoped was the Doctor’s mouth (in the darkness, she couldn’t tell), and she shuddered as her bare skin rubbed against the Doctor’s clothed front. Her tender nipples were brushing against the thin cotton of the Doctor’s shirts, and her bare thighs were tickled by the loose fabric of the Doctor’s trousers.

The Doctor sighed, and she kissed Yaz back. Her wet hand was on Yaz’s face (oh, Yaz was going to need to have _such_ a shower when this was all over), and her tongue was gentle as it probed against Yaz’s own. When they pulled apart, they were both trembling. 

“You’ve really been thinking about… my piercings, since you saw ‘em?” Yaz wasn’t sure why she was so surprised, and yet. 

“Well, yeah,” the Doctor said. Her hands were resting on Yaz’s hips, and then they were moving around, to grab Yaz’s arse. “Oh, I can’t wait to take you to bed. I’ve got a proper bed, too, even if I don’t use it much. Or we can use your bed, if you’d prefer.”

“Doc,” said a voice on the other side of the door, and the both of them jumped. “You in there, Doc?” It was Graham. So the thing in front of the door must have moved. That was good. 

“Yeah,” the Doctor called, “just give us a minute, let me get the door unlocked!”

Yaz leaned back against the door, and she fumbled her clothes back into something like order. The closet stank of sex, but hopefully nobody would notice. Or comment if they did notice. And Yaz hopefully didn’t look too ruffled. 

“There we go,” the Doctor said quietly, as she adjusted the hang of Yaz’s shirt. She paused, and she cleared her throat. “Is… is everything okay?” She held on to the front of Yaz’s shirt, her fingers gentle. She sounded nervous - more nervous than she had when the two of them had been fucking, when they’d been running from the alien. 

Yaz leaned forward, and she kissed the Doctor on the mouth - well, she was aiming for the mouth, and she got the Doctor’s chin on the first go, but got her mouth the second time. “Better than okay,” she promised. “But it’ll be even better next time.” 

“Brilliant,” said the Doctor, and Yaz could feel the Doctor’s lips smiling against her own.


End file.
